in the absence of perfection
by lovelikeallhopeislost
Summary: Cammie stares at the barista. A thought process ensues. / Coffee Shop AU. Oneshot


**I owe you guys something since I haven't updated New Beginnings since February and can't update for the next seven weeks (thank you GCSE exams you're my bffs) so I wrote this.**

**It's also on AO3 and as usual, the link will be on my profile.**

**Happy reading!**

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She didn't know why she wandered into the coffee shop. Whether it was the name The Comfort Spot or the smell of ground coffee beans drifting out of the door, she just did; she wasn't in the mood to question it.

The warmth from the radiators gently took away the morning cold. The shop itself was just as the name suggested: cosy and nondescript, with a simplistic layout and cosy sofas for chairs. Not harsh or stylish like the Starbucks down the road, just comfortable and relaxing.

Cammie had never taken a trip to a coffee shop at seven in the morning, but she was starting to see the appeal. Other customers were in the shop too, warming their hands with their lattes and sipping espressos whilst reading the daily newspaper.

There were men in suits fuelling up for a long day, women in smart dresses picking up several coffee cups at the countertop and parents with overexcited children wanting to get going on their trip. Whatever the purpose of their visit and whoever they were, the people added to the hustle and bustle of the shop.

She sat down at a table near the back, just watching. Everyone else seemed so busy, so focused on minute tasks such as turning the page of a book, or taking a phone call. Their concentration and lack of submission to distractions amazed her as they got on with their business.

She scanned over the drinks selection on the menu, already knowing what to order but doing it anyway. She needed something to do - fitting in is key. She didn't want to stand out or draw too much attention; make people wonder who she is or why she's here.

Cammie's only desire is to be normal. Not to stand out in a crowd, not to be noticed, just _be there_. Just _exist_.

A woman approached, asking for her order. Her attention was little to be desired. Cammie gave her reply and the woman walked away.

Her eyes followed the woman to the counter, giving the boy there her order and she watched him make her cappuccino.

The way his hands moved over the coffee machine was fluid and continuous. They never stopped, they never paused - they just kept going.

His movements were purposeful, always achieving his objective. Whether that was frothing the milk or adding the espresso shot to the cup, he was quick and precise. Obviously incredibly skilled in the art of coffee making, he was beginning to take Cammie's interest.

The boy was good looking, she had to admit. Dark brown hair, good bone structure and muscular physique were traits she found attractive and he had them all.

She could see it now. He'd bring her coffee over and for once, she'd come out of her shell and talk to him. She'd ask about the pin badge on the left hand corner of his apron and he'd go into detail about how much he loved the tv show it resembled and she'd agree with all of his opinions. They'd swap numbers and text each other the next day.

Their next date would be to the park (his choice), eating ice cream and sipping coffees he'd brought over from the shop. They'd play twenty questions and they'd find out they both love the same music and debate it at length, find out how he never knew his father and she'd reveal how her father disappeared when she was seven. They'd lay there under the stars and he'd teach her all about them.

He'd take her home and give her a chaste kiss on the lips, leaving her to pull him back and give him a full one. They'd meet up the next day, and the next until it would have been a full year that they had been together. Two people, in love with each other, filling the holes left by others in their hearts and curing their loneliness.

She'd feel good about herself as he brushes his fingers over her skin and tells her how beautiful and special she is. She wouldn't see the lumps and bumps of fat she sees now, just a smooth physique. She'd look in a mirror and see a girl staring back at her, a loved, cherished girl. Beauty would be seen in everything and everyone, whilst shedding happiness like skin and radiating like no other.

They'd marry two years later and have two little girls who'd grow up to be successful and settle down, as she would with her loving husband. They'd grow old together and savour stolen moments before one passed, then the other. They'd leave this world with a legacy of happiness and hope - hope they'd passed onto their children, who'd pass it on for generations to come.

But of course, none of this will happen.

The boy at the counter made eye contact and she looked away as quickly as she could, only now realising how much she was staring.

No, she was still Cammie. She was still left with the ever growing loneliness and regret, with no knight in shining armour to swoop in and take away the guilt weighing down on her shoulders. The pain and trivialities of life went on, minus the perfection she sought.

Rather irrationally, she presumed, she feared the future. She feared the pain it would bring and the anguish she would feel. The betrayal, hurt, anger, loss and vengeance it would present. The way these emotions would weaken her hardened exterior, which she'd spend an age developing.

Her objective was unattainable and she knew it, but she still aimed high and hoped.

When her coffee was brought over (by the woman, not the boy), she took a sip of the scalding liquid and allowed the burn and bitterness of the coffee to reflect on what she felt.

She looked over at the boy behind the counter again and caught his name on his apron - Zach - and she allowed the name to roll around a little on her tongue.

He looked over again and smiled at her. She smiled back, and raised her coffee cup in appreciation.

A crack formed in her wall. She ignored the pain it caused.

Maybe he could fix her after all.


End file.
